“Betray the mirror’s discretion”
Some powerful stuff in here!
“Betray the mirror’s discretion”
Some powerful stuff in here!
The balance between general and specific is a really interesting one. I remember finding it counter-intuitive being told that specific writing becomes more relatable to the reader. Here as you say I chose not to use “lemon flavoured” shampoo because I think generalising it to “fruit flavoured” just gives the listener a tiny bit more room to relate to it.
Some really nice raw imagery here Mayara! Great to describe a mirror no longer in its pristine state of being. The light being reflected and leaving you momentarily blind is a great observation you have picked up on and one that we can all relate to and experience as we read it.
Hey Adam welcome to the community!
Yea nice it is always a really interesting thing to do in object writing to write from the perspective of the object itself. I might well have a go at that tomorrow!
Welcome to the community Trippyroot
Interesting stuff but remember this exercise is focussed primarily on sensory description. I did enjoy reading though and hope to see you back tomorrow!
Stepping out of the tub reminds me of autumn, when brisk air hits your face. Each step on the smooth laminate wood gets progressively colder. I inhale deeply as I remove my towel in front the mirror… slowly. Seeing my pale skin always slows my breathing. I trace my finger along my still-wet shoulder like a finger painting. As I smell the coconut lavender scent, I look away. Memories overwhelm all my senses. The taste of peppermint lips; the feel of calloused fingertips. I look back again, with hesitation, at every freckle and imperfection, this time with distain.
I taste the salt of a single tear that escapes, so I lift the plush royal blue towel over my skin again and begin to dry away every humid memory.
@WLDFLOW3R You are really getting the hang of it! My favorite part is that, the way I take it, is a person looking at the mirror and taking note of changes that come with age, and that is really strengthened through the use of peppermint flavoring (the scene it gave me was remembering getting free peppermints at the bank as kid) and contrasting that with salty tears (because “salt” as an adjective can mean old). That is the really cool thing about this type of writing is that it elicits various reactions from different people. Your visual imagery remains strong, and you have really beefed up your other senses. Well done!
Great work Crysty! You’ve captured a lot of emotion in this piece. This is a good example of object writing in action; you could be writing a song about this theme of looking in the mirror and mourning lost youth etc - the question then is, what imagery will help to paint this picture in the listener’s mind? The number one rule is “show don’t tell”. Something like “memories overwhelm all my senses” may be slightly guilty of telling us instead of showing, but you do then follow with some concrete examples and imagery which is great. Drying away every humid memory is very strong - well done!
thank you for the feedback!
Thank you for the feedback! I find using other senses in writing very foreign, so I am excited to practice.
Stumbling over the single step, plunging down to the toilet, groggy eyes as the cold water from the faucet slaps my face. Reflected back at me in the mirror is a reflection of the night before, the nightcap from last night curdling my insides, nauseous heaving over the toilet, as the sweat and stink fills my nostrils.
Maintaining composure, I lock eyes in the mirror, standing in darkness, never turning on the light, avoiding the click that would penetrate my eardrums. Flushing away remnants from yesterday, spiraling into sadness, cool, refreshing water runs through my fingers, reminding me it’s a new day.
Welcome! Your play on the word “plunge” is great. Lots of great imagery in just that first line. The tastes and smells and internal feelings in the rest of the first part are really strong. You are incorporating many senses really seamlessly while allowing the reader room to imagine (this is really good).
In the second part, you bring in the auditory sense with the click, and it’s especially interesting because it didn’t happen. It’s a phantom click we are invited to avoid hearing. Again, ending with “flush” word play is a neat tie back to the beginning.
The only critique I have isn’t even a real one, it’s just that the mirror received very little of the spotlight. But that in no way lessens this great write up. Glad to have you on board here!
Yeah! Another person! Welcome! I like the line, “flushing away remnants from yesterday.”
The music from the speakers was drumming on my heart, while I stood in the sea of sweaty bodies writhing against each other, jumping with their hands raised to the stars. I had the compulsion to free myself, as if drowning, gasping for air. I dragged myself out of the mob, to the washroom. The cold splash of water became a waking call for me from a bad dream. I looked upwards, at the smudged bathroom mirror, drops of water rolling down my craggy skin in an uneven path. Gulping air, I come to realise how much I’ve changed, red and saggy eyes, bags of water filled below my eyes, waiting to shut themselves, a body grudgingly dragging itself, ready to collapse on a soft bed.
The first sentence is nice because it invokes both audible and internal sensory. The movement from the crowd to the bathroom is a really subtle image that has dramatic effect of showing time and space moving. Gulping air gives us the sensation of “hard to swallow” in our throats, as well as our lungs expanding. You did really well at using multiple senses in single images. Great job!
Flick upwards, don’t push in. A red dwarf hums a good morning tune amidst the morning fog. A headless man stands before me, guillotined by warm French lights. No, not headless, hidden in the fog. No lines yet etch his eyes, but his back traces an arch. Hints of his brews linger about—apothecary’s mints and oils shout their unseen presence telling tales of adventures to come. The cool fading of the dying of the dwarf and silence of his gentle song makes me reach for a cotton embrace.
This is well done, though I feel like the association with the mirror is very subtle. I definitely feel the bathroom part. It makes me think of a gym bathroom after sitting in a steam room after a workout.
After many bathtub tears and jo Malone candles, I’m cautious enough to not slip over the cold tiles, now wet from my feet. I hold onto the marble sink and clutch it’s edge. Same way I hold my tears back. I look over my counter to see the luxury shower gels& beautiful bottles of liquid aroma that now I smell of. I wipe my wet hands across the mirror and take a look at my face, now red and splotchy from all the crying. I try to to fake a smile , but then breakdown wondering how many more bottles I’d have to get through before I get through the day
This is pretty good! I think you are improving. You have some nice images and senses here. The protagonist appears to be comforted by showers, apparently something bad has happened and he/she is trying to shower to calm down or escape. I think something could be added to the end to drive that point home. Rather than just counting the bottles of soap, the protagonist could wonder how long it will be before he/she comes crawling back to the welcoming embrace of steam and water. Or now that the fog has cleared, and the protagonist has confronted the reflection, there is a draw back to the shower to fog it over again. Those little things can add depth to the image. Well done!
As I see my body in the mirror, I feel into it for what wants to be cared for; first a warm (not skin scalding) shower, luffa saturated with suds scraping my skin to feel the water droplets even more sensitively, the razor licking under my nose and lips, humid steam filling my lungs before I take a sudden sharp inhale and turn the water to full cold. My body wants to get out, but my mind wills it to stay through walls of surging escape-impulse, breath slow and full. Finally freed, I eagerly accept the soft towel’s caress and reach for the q-tips to gently free the building pressure in my ears. I sigh relief, which prompts me to apply the cool, viscous moisturizer to my sensitized, freshly shaved face. Touching my t-zone reminds me when it was once coarse leather, from a childhood sunburn.